Saturday, October 27, 2007

The bleating symphony.

The way they see it.

Whenever they turn to march. Whenever they run the show. Whenever they eat the wind. Whenever they speak they oxide. Whenever they twist the light. Whenever they shake the swing. Whenever they break the night. Whenever they sing the choice. Whenever they smell the cry. Whenever he mixes it. Whenever she squeezes it.

The way I see it.

A lesson to integrity. A bound of functionality. A silliness of abuse. A secret to paper. A vocabulary so ignorant. A spare of muchness. A forest of freedom. A trick maker. A sequence truck. A hero widespread.

The way it is.

Is this it?
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